Tender
by stubadingdong
Summary: Trip visits T'Pol - takes place during Twilight


TITLE: Tender  
  
AUTHOR: stub  
  
DATE: 11-9-03  
  
RATING: R  
  
DISCLAIMER: Everyone and everything belongs to Paramount. And I'm ok with that.  
  
SUMMARY: Trip visits T'Pol  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTES: After much hint-dropping for a T/T take on this and a few beggars at the HoTBBS, I decided to give something back to my T/T community after an A/T'P soaked episode with 'Twilight'  
  
WARNING: This is not a fun romp, since the episode itself was far from fun. Heck, it's not even mildly fluffy. I just couldn't bring myself to stray from the tone of the episode.  
  
***  
  
The chime on her door rang at exactly 1900. Exactly as it had every third Friday of every month for the last nine years. He never broke their engagements, not once. At first they had convinced themselves that he was just checking up on Jonathan, his old pal, his best friend. But over the months and years it had gradually turned into a sanity check, not only for T'Pol but for Tucker as well. Neither of them had ever considered *not* taking care of Jonathan Archer, but both had made sacrifices to do so. Their time together was little but precious.  
  
T'Pol didn't bother to get the door. She knew it was just a courtesy, something that would not be driven from Tucker's being. He opened the door, poked his head in and cautiously looked around the room. His eyes met hers and she nodded her head.  
  
"He has retired for the evening," said T'Pol quietly. Jonathan often did. Every day she'd run through the same explanation. Each time he heard it, it was like the first time. Each time it tore him apart.  
  
"I dunno how you can do this everyday," Tucker replied as he approached her.  
  
"It is my duty," she said, rising from her chair to greet him. "I owe him."  
  
"You've paid your dues, T'Pol." Tucker slipped his arms around her waist and pulled her into a fierce but gentle hug. He buried his face in her neck, cherishing this feeling of his arms around her.  
  
"Let's not waste our time together discussing this again," she whispered. She tightened her hold on him.  
  
Tucker turned his head slightly, his mouth to her ear. "He's not the only one that needs you, you know."  
  
T'Pol sighed and pushed back. She turned her gaze upon him. He bit his lower lip and rolled his eyes slightly.  
  
"I'm sorry," Tucker replied. "I didn't come here to fight with you. I know we've been over this a thousand times. And each time it kills me to see you so worn down, to see you take this sacrifice to the limit."  
  
Tucker paused, his gaze traveling to Jonathan's bedroom door. "It kills me that he can't see how much this drains you."  
  
"It's not his fault," said T'Pol quietly. Her hands rested lightly against his chest, absently picking off invisible fuzz from his uniform.  
  
"I know that, darlin'. But it's not your fault, either." Tucker grasped her face gently in his hands, forcing her to look at him. "No one's blamin' you for what happened."  
  
Her eyes searched his face, her nostrils flaring slightly. Tucker knew this to be a sign of her emotional defenses weakening. She was tired. No, T'Pol was exhausted. He knew there was no way he'd be able to do this, to tell his best friend how Earth had been destroyed. Once would be a horrible enough task, but to relay it everyday was more than he could bear. Tucker couldn't fathom dealing with Jonathan's reaction every day. It was bad enough before those Xindi bastards destroyed everything. At least back then retelling Jonathan the same story was hard, but it wasn't devastating. T'Pol had given up so much. Tucker admired her for that. He was grateful for her duty, however misguided he thought it was.  
  
"I know *you* blame yourself, but I wish you wouldn't," he continued. "Your intentions are honorable...hell, they're beyond that...but you don't deserve this life. Neither does he. And neither do I."  
  
It was a selfish thing to say, but Tucker had to. He'd said it before. Hell, they'd said all of this before. It was like they were suffering their own memory losses. But he and T'Pol remembered these conversations. It went the same way every time. He always tried to convince her to come back to the ship so they could look after Jonathan together. She always declined, arguing that it was easier for all of them if they just stayed planet-side. She always oh-so logically pointed out that it would be too emotionally draining for the humans on board. And he always conceded to this point. This conversation had grown into a perfunctory dance of sorts, a ritual. But neither one of them ever lost sight as to why they had it, nor why they've done what they've done.  
  
T'Pol said nothing, just nodded her head.  
  
"C'mon, Sub-Commander," said Tucker with a smile. He used her former rank as a term of endearment. "Let's get you a bath drawn." He tugged her hand and led her to the bathroom.  
  
T'Pol silently complied. They hadn't spent an evening in a bathtub for many months. When Tucker was particularly tired or protective would he draw them a steaming bath. She was always grateful for his thoughtfulness for he always took care of her when he visited. T'Pol was able to surrender her control, give in to someone else. Let someone be *her* caretaker. Tucker understood this more than anyone. T'Pol grew to love him for that.  
  
While Tucker drew the bath, T'Pol gathered candles and placed them about the small room. They were not for setting a romantic atmosphere. Theirs was not a relationship born of that. It was just two people who understood each others' needs in a very dark time. Tucker and T'Pol both found the flames to be relaxing. The harsh bulbs of artificial lighting were stale and tense. Even on his ship, Tucker found himself lighting candles each night, a reminder of brighter days. It helped him sleep. He only got one or two nights of solid sleep every month. And this would be one of those nights.  
  
They stripped naked, neither in any rush. These visits ceased to be about sexual release. As time marched on and circumstances became more and more bleak, the captain and former sub-commander passed their time together in each others' arms, savoring every moment they could together.  
  
T'Pol sank into the hot water, feeling her muscles loosen. She leaned back against the tub as Tucker knelt beside her. He took a sponge and dipped it into the water, then squeezed it out over her shoulders. He repeated this for long minutes. Her eyes were closed and her breathing deep. Tucker smiled and was quite content to just watch her. T'Pol of Vulcan, Charles Tucker's only ray of sunshine in this cloudy existence. He never imagined things would turn out this way, so dour and grim. He allowed himself the luxury of thinking of what might have been, if the circumstances were different...if they'd found the Xindi in time.  
  
Tucker's eyes burned with tears at the thought of a better life, the thought that his people still numbered in the billions. He sniffed and T'Pol opened her eyes. She caught his eye and he smiled, waved a hand in dismissal.  
  
"You gonna scooch forward so I can join you?" he asked softly. His knees creaked as he rose to his feet.  
  
T'Pol slid forward as Tucker carefully sank in behind her. He pulled her close once more, his arms wrapped tightly around her. T'Pol relaxed against him, allowing herself to enjoy the feel of his warm, naked skin against hers. It was her one true comfort.  
  
"Phlox comes tomorrow," T'Pol announced quietly.  
  
Tucker nodded. "I know. He sent me a letter." His fingers traced invisible lines on her stomach. "He found something?"  
  
"Yes." Her own fingers absently mirrored his designs on his thighs. "Phlox thinks he can cure Jonathan."  
  
"God I hope so," replied Tucker. He planted a kiss on her shoulder. "I dunno what he's gonna do when he's able to make memories again, though. I almost envy Jon...he doesn't have a clue how hard the last twelve years have been."  
  
"Indeed."  
  
"Tomorrow is Everything Day?"  
  
"Yes. Especially given the doctor is to visit."  
  
Everything Day, as they called it, usually occurred after Tucker's visits. T'Pol told their former captain everything, the whole long story once a month. Usually she skimmed over things, sometimes she didn't even tell him Earth was destroyed. Some days she needed a break. But each time after Tucker left, T'Pol would spend the day retelling in vivid detail the twelve years Jonathan couldn't remember. Tucker still didn't understand why she put herself through that, but he figured it was some kind of emotional cleansing that she needed. They never told the Cap'n about them, even though he would never remember anyway. And Jonathan was none the wiser.  
  
They sat in companionable silence, fingers and hands stroking and poking and drawing lazy patterns on skin. When the bathwater finally grew tepid, human and Vulcan disengaged themselves and drained the tub. They dried off and retired to T'Pol's bedroom for the night.  
  
Once in her room, they crawled into bed much like an old married couple. He had his side of the bed, she had hers, though either of them seldom used it. They often awoke the next morning in the middle of the bed, wrapped up together. T'Pol now curled herself around Tucker, holding him tight.  
  
"What is it?" he asked. This was usually the time they made love. It was part of the monthly ritual; sex before bed. T'Pol was not usually a snuggler until afterward.  
  
"I just..." her voice trailed off and she sighed. "I don't think we have much time left, Charles."  
  
Tucker blinked. He pulled away to look her in the eye. "What're you talkin' about?"  
  
T'Pol leaned forward to kiss him. Tucker noted it was more passionate than it had been for a very, very long time. It was the kind of kiss that made him hard in an instant, something that was not as easy as it used to be.  
  
"T'Pol." He broke away to look at her again.  
  
"Please, Charles," she whispered. "I'm so tired..."  
  
"I know you are, baby," he replied softly. He kissed her gently, moving on top of her. "Hopefully it'll all be over soon."  
  
Their lovemaking was rigorous and intense. Tucker had forgotten how passionate she could be. He hadn't seen it for so long. His surprise and confusion was muted soon enough. He had been wrong about getting a good solid night's sleep. They didn't sleep at all.  
  
The hours passed quickly and all too soon it was time for Tucker to return to Enterprise. At least this time he knew he would see T'Pol again before another month had passed. She was due to bring Jon up. That was all he knew. Phlox had been quite evasive.  
  
Tucker rolled out of bed and padded to the bathroom to get cleaned up and dressed. He was pushing it this morning. Jon would be awake soon. He needed to be gone...wanted to be gone. He would see him that afternoon anyway.  
  
As Tucker zipped up his uniform, T'Pol entered the small bathroom. She wrapped her arms around him and leaned in to kiss him.  
  
"I'm sorry, Charles," she said quietly when they broke apart.  
  
He looked at her curiously. "Sorry for what, darlin'?"  
  
She gazed up at him, eyes shining. "For all the things I could not be for you."  
  
Tucker frowned. "What-"  
  
He was silenced with another kiss.  
  
"Go," she said. "I will see you this afternoon." T'Pol turned him towards the door and swatted his butt.  
  
Tucker looked over his shoulder, unsure whether to laugh or cry.  
  
~END~ 


End file.
